Of the Fittest
by UnderminetheAuthority
Summary: The champions are to compete in matches against each other for honor, fame, and to have their wishes fulfilled. However, as the competition goes on, the champions find themselves questioning their true feelings. Are their wishes truly for the best? Suddenly, the competition is a lot more sinister than it seems, especially when the defeated don't come back from the dead... Lux/Kat.
1. Chapter 1

_Full Summary:_

_The champions are to compete in matches against each other for honor, fame, and to have their wishes fulfilled. However, as the competition goes on, the champions find themselves questioning their true feelings. Are their wishes truly for the best? Will their dreams be shattered? Suddenly, the competition is a lot more sinister than it seems. Lux/Kat. WARNING: Character Death._

**Chapter one**

Riven stood outside Lux's door, a set of flowers in her hands. They were hand-picked at the meadow and recommended by her brother, though the aroma was not something she would have ever guessed Lux would like. The smell seemed unnaturally sweet, but then again, she was too.

She knocked, a light blush working its way across her tanned cheeks. From the inside there was a shuffle followed by a small squeak.

"Coming!" Responded a cheery voice. Lux.

"Who could that possibly be?" An irritated one muttered in the back ground. Though hushed, Riven could tell who it was instantly, and her heart dropped. Suddenly, the flowers didn't seem so fresh.

The door flung open, the flowers making their way hidden behind her back. Riven cracked a weak smile, face to face with the Lady of Luminosity and the little explorer brat.

"Riven! How nice. How was your match?" The former beamed. She noticed that her hair was unkempt and a bit of Ezreal's made its way onto her shirt, and averted her eyes.

"Good I guess." _But it would have been better if you were there. _Well, maybe not—the presence of the bright eyed girl alone might have been enough to make her forget what was going on anyway.

"Did you win?"

With her free hand, she scratched her chin. "Well, 'win' is a pretty black and white word…"

Lux giggled, poking the tip of Rivin's nose playfully.

"Hey!" She protested, face red. Lux leaned closer, oblivious to Riven's state, and smiled.

"I love the perfume. Cosmos, right?"

She nodded slightly before quickly shoving the flowers into her pouch. "Yeah, um, I should be going now. I was supposed to meet a summoner and forgot the time." Only half a lie. "Later!"

Before she had time to blink, Riven was gone, leaving behind the confused couple looking at thin air.

"What was that about?" Ezreal questioned.

Lux closed the door, meeting Ezreal for a small peck on the lips. "Maybe she was a little lonely. Fighting with a broken sword must put a damper on her."

He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, and the Demacians are best buds with the Noxians. It looks to me like the Exile has a crush on you."

Lux gave him a look of surprise and doubt. "What?"

"Come on, perfume? Riven doesn't wear perfume. I hope. And Cosmos are your favorite flower. Plus, she blushes like a schoolgirl around you."

Her eyes widened. "It's impossible for her to 'like' me…she's a girl!"

"So?"

"That means she has…Like….GIRL PARTS!"

He laughed. "Well, either way, that emotionless soldier-girl isn't your type. I'm surprised she could even crush on anyone."

Lux frowned as her boyfriend gave her another light kiss, unsettled by the way he called the Exile emotionless.

* * *

Riven stalked to the small café she was to meet her summoner at, cursing Ezreal for being alive and cursing herself—or rather, her shyness. While she was positive that making Lux fall in love with her was no small task, it was lame that she couldn't even hand her some cheap flowers. Glaring at them in her pouch, as if they were the source of all her troubles, she considered throwing them out. What did Lux see in them that wasn't in Riven? Beauty? A sweet atmosphere?

Probably both. And, both of which could be seen in Lux from a mile away. After all, it was her radiant smile and ridiculous optimism that first attracted her. Ah, their first battle together was quite interesting because of that.

"My, is that Cosmos I smell?" Chuckled a voice. Riven redirected her attention to a cloaked man in front of her—she hadn't realized she'd walked to the café already, and stood in front of the summoner, surprised at the fact she actually had to tilt her head upward to see him. His suave speech and refined features reminded her heavily of Taric, the walking jewelry store, only with less strength on the gay meter.

"Yes, and don't ask why," she replied grouchily. "Long day. I'm tired."

The summoner smiled knowingly and gestured to an empty table. They sat, and he signaled for a waiter. "I'll have a number six…oh, and a thirteen as well. Thank you, young man. What would you like, Miss Riven?"

"Hm. Are there éclairs?"

"Ah. Fine tastes you have. She will have a number twenty two. That will be all, young man."

The waiter left with a word. _What horrible service for a café in the league…he was even hiding behind his little notepad, I couldn't see his face at all. Hmph._

"So, Miss Riven, what do you think of Demacia's Lady of Luminosity?"

She ignored him the best she could, though her eyes betrayed the smallest hints of surprise.

"No small talk, summoner. Why have you called me out here?"

The man's sea green eyes flashed dangerously. "Straight to business, eh?"

She hardened her scowl. This guy was just as annoying as Taric, that was for sure, but there was something else about him that put her on edge.

"Well," he continued, "we summoners have been working on a…a challenge for you champions. A _competition_, if you will, to raise up the powerful on pedestals." He smirked slightly. "To let your voices be heard."

Riven arced up on eyebrow, curious. She always liked competitions—always liked _winning_—but if her voice was heard, then perhaps the reformation of Noxus could be a tad easier to achieve. However, such a competition was unheard of in the League, as battles were usually for political aims, rather than that of individual champions' prowess.

"Why are you telling me this?" She questioned. "Usually such announcements are made in an assembly."

"Because, Miss Riven, you are chosen to be an inside eye. You see, in a competition, people are likely to cheat. You are to make sure there is no violence outside of the custom arenas and if there is, you report it to me. As we, the summoners, bestow upon champions rewards for winning a stage, we can also add handicaps for breaking the rules."

"Is that it?" She asked suspiciously. "If you want to simply prevent cheating, you can figure out a way yourself much more easily than by asking me."

"Sharp. The second thing you will do for us…is ensure that anything else we ask of you is done. Ah, but don't worry Miss Riven, we wouldn't ask of you to carry out anything drastic. Just simple tasks."

"And how does being your little spy-servant benefit _me_?"

"We'd be willing to bend the rules for you, Miss Riven. Maybe a match or too will work out clearly in your favor."

It was all Riven could do to prevent herself from spitting in his face. "You mean cheat. A cheater to prevent cheaters, huh? I play fair and square. I think we're done here."

"Wait!" He said quickly. She sighed, motioning for him to go on. "Don't be hasty. Your éclair has yet to arrive. And. Ahem. Rather than that, I suppose that once the competition is over, we summoners can aid you in one wish of _yours_."

"Any wish?"

"If it remains within our grasp, then yes."

"Deal," she agreed. "You had better not be lying."

"Wonderful. Ah! It seems that the éclair must be saved for another day. They are summoning the champions to the assembly hall."

She looked down at her arms, to in fact, find them encased in a bright blue glow. As it reached her eyes and filled her sight with a white light, the summoner nudged her on the shoulder.

"Also, you may call me Markos."

* * *

Lux and Ezreal materialized at opposite sides of the assembly hall, Lux fixing her hair, and Ezreal making sure no part of him had lip gloss on it. Their relationship was completely secret—as she was just nervous about the whole thing, and he was worried about big brother Garren—but it was still pretty hard to keep from stealing glances….and kisses… in public.

"Soooo….what's this about?" She asked Jarvan and Garren, leaning her head so she could see them. They were seated behind her, talking about something political that went right through her. Prince Garren shrugged, seemingly forgetting about his conversation with the prince.

The prince frowned. "I wasn't notified by anyone about an assembly. In fact, I hadn't been notified about anything lately."

"I wonder what's it's about," she laughed. "Oh oh oh! I remember the last time there was an assembly—remember? When King Jarvan made an announcement and showed—"

"LUX!" Jarvan glared. "Do. Not. Speak of it!"

Garren chuckled as Lux shrunk in her seat.

Around them, champions reorganized themselves by relation—around the three Demacians, Galio perched overhead, Fiora and Sona isolated themselves nearby, whereas Xin Zhao conversed with the two rangers, Quinn and Vayne. Poppy resided with her Yordle brethren, Lux getting the vague inkling that Teemo, missing from the group of Yordles, was out making trouble.

She was actually surprised that the champions weren't bickering wildly amongst themselves, or even fighting, having been forced to gather in the huge auditorium-like space. She figured it was because they were curious like her to what was going on.

After what seemed like an hour of relentlessly making corny jokes to her older brother and the prince, a huge crack and a bang erupted through the room. Everyone snapped their attention to the front, where three summoners, all quite familiar stood. The one in the center had a bright energy engulfing his hand, and was probably the source of the loud sound.

"Thank you for gathering on such…lack of notice today, champions," the summoner mused. "However, I'm sure many of you will be looking forward to what we have prepared."

"My name is Summoner Amshra. The League will be holding a competition among you champions—the winner, or winners of the competition will be awarded with a special key-in to what the Summoners do, and will have their voice heard. It is not only to help make all of you stronger and more aware, but to make the council more efficient if it has a champion's thoughts factored in."

Murmurs erupted from the champions—excitement, radiated from them, and the more egocentric ones gave declarations of their future success. Lux, though, didn't like the sound of it as much. The smile threatened to drop from her, until Garren have a hoot of laughter.

"Ha! This is the chance to show them that Demacia is superior! The Might of Demacia will win the title of 'champion' from the arms of the Noxians."

From across the room, Katarina stood up and flicked the finger. "Noxus shall prevail! You fucking Demacians won't even get past your first matches! Haha!"

Garren stood up as well, and Lux let out a sigh. "Why you—"

"Hold yourself, Garren. The winner of the competition is already decided—no bickering will make Demacia fall," Jarvan grinned.

Vi heard this from the seats behind him, and smashed her un-armored fists into a nearby chair, nevertheless sending the back flying. "Hell no! The winner is ME, arrogant bastards!"

Lux moved off to the side. _Wow, who knew prestigious champions and knights could get riled up so easily. And _she_ was the immature one? _

"Oh shut up you idiot," Caitlyn sighed from beside her partner, whacking her in the side and pulling Vi back in her seat.

Before things got too out of hand, another crack lit up the room. Once again attention was turned to Summoner Amshra and the other two, who haven't said a single word. Amshra smiled—their enthusiasm was wonderful.

"Before getting to the actual hype of the real competition, there are, well, preliminaries. Three 'Battle Royale' style brawls in a newly constructed arena shall be carried out, and the eight champions in each brawl with the lowest score shall be eliminated from the competition."

"A kill is two points. An assist is one. Consecutive kills have added points. Simple rules. I would also like to say that throughout the competition, violence out of the arena is not tolerated. In addition, the institute has been cleared of all staff and residents. You may take food whenever, but all stores are closed down. Trespassing in stores is also prohibited."

"Monitors displaying any current match are set up throughout the institute—next to each monitor is a digital list of the next match, or, rather, who is participating in it."

Ashram smirked. "Three hours until the first match. Thank you for your cooperation."

And then the three were gone, engulfed in the same bright light that summoned them here. The instant they left, the room roared with all sorts of conversation, but Lux left to return to her room, unable to shake the feeling that something was wrong.

_Ashram…Ashram…Why does it sound so familiar?_

* * *

_**Thanks for reading this far! This is my first LoL fanfic, and I plan for it to be nice and long with short-ish chapters around this length. It will be plot driven and have lots of romance to match the action-while I have ideas for the pairings I want, feel free to post who you would like to be together! Maybe I'll listen. Review please! I welcome constructive criticism.** _


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Vi grinned madly as her iron fist smashed into the machine's bronze-gold face, Blitzcrank's head flying several meters behind them. After a high pitched hiss and a beep, the rest of his body took a couple steps forward before collapsing.

"And stay down, pile of rust!" She laughed. A burst of pain punctuated her boast as Shen sunk a blade through her shoulder, blood bursting from the wound. Behind him, Akali mimicked her comrade's move with her own weapon, slicing Vi's heel. However, the pain was nothing to her, and she barreled a punch into Shen's open stomach. The pair traded blows to her until Vi was practically on her knees. However, before the final blow could be dealt, a single bullet pierced the Eye of Twilights skull.

Caitlyn stood behind him, flinging a net onto Akali and propelling herself at her partner's side. Vi smirked. "You showed up late to the party, cupcake!"

Caitlyn fixed her hat and smirked back. "If I didn't show up late, you would have left early."

Vi let out a dismissive snort and charged, over-sized fists flying once again. Akali, untouched from the previous battle, dodged, only to be met by a bullet to the leg. Any attempt to kill Vi resulted in a near-death experience by the Sheriff, until it was Akali to her knees. Though the partners claim to hate eachother, they worked together better than even she and Shen.

Knowing she was bested, Akali made a quick escape, first flashing away in a flicker of light, then fading into the trees. The duo chased, but soon found that they lost track of the ninja the moment she ran.

"Sneaky bitch!" Vi whined, slamming a tree from its trunk.

"Oh quit whining. We're in first place anyway."

"STILL! That kill was in the bag."

"Even if we found her, I highly doubt the likes of you would have been able to land the hit in time," Caitlyn taunted, slinging her rifle over one shoulder. "There's five seconds on the clock right now, after all."

"Oh yeah? I could have—"

CRACK!

Before Caitlyn could blink, an all too familiar spear took its place in Vi's head, the pointed end out one side and the bottom at the other.

"An enemy has been slain," the announcer boomed. Followed by, "Victory!"

And she was left looking snidely at Vi's glowing corpse, Nidalee laughing in a nearby bush.

"See? That's what you get for fooling around, moron," Caitlyn chuckled. "Even though you were one of the winners, you SOMEHOW managed to die in the last five seconds."

Above in the death zone, Vi screamed out a string of curses.

* * *

Lux, her brother, and Galio stood in front of one of the monitors, watching the first match. She was relieved that her name didn't appear on the list, but that meant she would still have to fight. Jarvan and the other Demacians, save for Fiora and Sona, had the luck of being in the first match, though, and were scoring points like no tomorrow. They had teamed up after all, like many of the others—the Piltover enforcers and the ninjas, for instance.

However, Lux was watching Ezreal's little portion of the monitor. He was doing pretty good, but flew solo, and hence was taken out much easier. For a long time she was worried he might lose, as he was in the last eight on the scoreboard, but in the end managed to climb his way to tenth-to-last-place.

When time was called, she let out a breath of relief she didn't know she was holding. Ez remained one of the winners.

"This is great, Lux!" Garren grinned, ecstatic. She blinked.

"Huh?"

"All the Demacians won! Now the likely hood of one of us winning is high!"

Not quite. There are only about ten of us, and a hundred more who aren't. "That's great," she smiled. Garren returned his attention to the screen. Galio, never saying anything, glanced at Lux knowingly as she peered once again at Ezreal's portion of the monitor. He then glanced at the screens of the losers, who were in states of complete dismay.

"Losers!" The announcer boomed. "Ziggs. Karma. Karthus. Olaf. Twitch. Corki. Sion. Nunu."

Galio frowned in pity. By simple observation, these were all champions without partners. However, he had no time to observe them much more—they all burned with the blue light and disappeared, simultaneously appearing around them, scattered.

Cheers and hoots and victory yells filled the area. The victorious Demacians gathered around Galio, Lux and Garren, the two most latter of which gave out their praise. Lux was distracted though, looking around most likely for Ezreal. When they saw eachother, her smile widened, and she snuck away from the boastful group of men.

No sooner had she left then Ashram's voice could be heard above the ruckus.

"Congratulations to the winning champions," he said. "The second match shall begin in an hour. Please take a look at the list to see if your name appears."

The champions began to make their way over to some of the many lists. Some however, were looking around like how Lux had, but more frantically.

"Where are Olaf and Karthus?" Yelled a hulking armored figure, Mordekaiser. Beside him were Sona and Yorick, looking visibly worried. The Yordles were also huddled up, confused.

"Ziggs and Corki are also missing. Where have you sent them?"

"Don't make a fuss," Ashram replied. "As they are no longer competing, I have materialized them to their respective city-states."

This set most of them at ease. But Galio, ever the observer, knew that there was still tension. Thresh, not known to be a social butterfly, seemed to be communicating with Yorick and Sona—that alone was something strange. But most everyone else simply rushed to the boards, scouting out their name, then scouting out a group to team up with.

Galio closed his eyes, blending into the stone walls he'd flown to. Regardless of whether or not his name was on the list he would be summoned, and as he wasn't planning on teaming up with anyone, it didn't quite matter if he joined the mob of eager champions down below.

In the meantime, Lux hurried to the board. Ezreal chose to wait for her at a quiet wing of the building, finding a place where they could be alone. And Lux, honestly tired of the roar of the competition, desperately needed that quiet.

Weaving through the champions talking amongst themselves, she tried to see the list. The twenty-some names were in her sight, but not even the Lady of Luminosity could see them clearly from so far away. Stepping to the side to maneuver around another champion, she knocked right into one she didn't calculate to be there.

"Fuck off, Demacian trash," hissed a very familiar voice. Lux looked up fearfully to see the Sinister Blade glaring down at her, red hair almost bristling up at the sight of the Demacian, and eyes sharper than her daggers.

"Sorry…!" Lux squeaked, paralyzed. She knew that Katarina Du Couteau was pretty evil—her brother had told her all about her—but up close and personal, the real thing far surpassed the tale.

Katarina put one hand over her blade, finger twitching. She ached to pull it out and mutilate the dumb blonde, but she remembered that Ash-something-or-other said that violence out of the matches are prohibited. Disqualification would ruin her plans. So, she settled for snarling hatefully and shoved the girl as she walked past, ignoring the 'older brother's' angry yell from across the room. He was still talking with the other Demacian fools and it didn't even look like he knew his sister had left their cluster, let alone was being harassed.

What a reliable sibling.

Not that she was one to talk. She and Cassiopeia were far from the perfect siblings, but they did look out for each other—if Cass were as fragile and young as the Demacian Oaf's sister, then Katarina would be keeping a watchful eye.

Lux, long forgetting why she was there, stared at Katarina's back as she walked off, fingers grazing the hilt of her assassin's dagger. Garren arrived at her side, asking if she was okay, but half of it landing on deaf ears. After delay, Lux pulled on a wide smile.

"I'm fine. I bumped into her."

"Did the wench do anything to you?" He questioned.

She laughed wearily. "No, I said I'm fine."

Garren huffed. "That Sinister Blade is nothing more than a murderous b—" He coughed. "I mean, nothing but trouble. Don't go near her. She probably wouldn't hesitate to kill every living thing in Valoran given the chance."

Lux tensed. "I'm sure she's not that bad…I mean, she didn't kill me…."

"Because we're surrounded by powerful champions and other less psychotic murderers."

She looked down at her feet. Well yeah he was right, but it was still hard for her to think there was a person so cold. And, knowing her brother, Garren was probably not lying. He only ever spoke honestly to her.

"Anyway," Garren noted, changing topic, "It seems that you and I are in the next match!"

Just great.

* * *

Riven scanned the list, eager to see her name appear almost first. Then there was Lux and her brother. Virtually no one else there were champions she was familiar with, though, so it would be smart to try and team up with Lux anyway. Yeah, that would be great—the Demacians are known to be powerful as one. She couldn't lose that way.

In spite of that, there were names that put her on edge. Katarina, the Sinister Blade, for one. She was a tough one—after spending years in Noxus sparring with the red-haired devil, not once had Riven won. Maybe it was because Riven was slower and less experienced. Maybe it was because she was still bound by the routine teachings of Noxus.

Or maybe Katarina Du Couteau was simply more skilled.

Riven shook off the thought. Either way, she was not the warrior she was now. Now she is the warrior who will rebuild Noxus from the darkness.

"Fuck off, Demacian trash!" Someone seethed. Speak of the devil. Recognizing the voice anywhere, Riven turned to see Katarina looming dangerously over someone else half way across the room. Had she not been haunted by Katarina for years, she would never have heard her that far away.

The Noxian assassin moved a little to the left, and Riven gazed in surprise as she realized it was Lux Katarina was about to unleash her fury on, small and fearful and stock still. Cursing under her breath, Riven rushed over, but with so many in the way it was hard to so much as move in the direction. Katarina poised to draw her dagger and Riven prepared her own weapon.

She shoved aside a Yordle and pushed past Nasus. Then another Yordle moved in front of her, and she forced herself to jump over him instead of just punting the thing out of the way instead. However, in the time it took her to do so she lost sight of Katarina. Instead there was just Lux, looking about to faint, with the Noxian walking in the opposite direction.

Miraculously, the close encounter failed to escalate into a murder scene. Phew—crisis averted.

"Pfft, been staring at Little Miss Luminosity a lot lately, haven't you?" Snickered the Barbarian King from next to her. Riven glared and turned to him with her own snide remark, Garren blocking her view of Lux from the corner of her eye.

"And you? Where's your girlfriend?"

Tryndamere wrinkled his nose. "She's not my girlfriend. Then again, I could _make_ her mine if I wanted to. _You_? You're _hopeless_!"

Riven narrowed her eyes.

"Let's be honest," he went on, "you never have and never will have a chance with Demacia's little angel. She has everything you don't—an older brother who looks out for her, a pretty face, a boyfriend—"

Her eyes widened. He noticed and almost burst out laughing. "_Please_ tell me you knew she had a boyfriend. The explorer kid, ya? Any guy with a brain can see how they act near each other. Haha! And this is coming from ME. Everyone knows I'm not the sharpest one here!"

Her stomach churned. It made total sense…she was such a fool to not have figured it out. They were almost always together when the other Demacians were away! The facts were blaring in her face, she just chose to ignore them.

Wasting no energy shoving the barbarian out of the way, she stormed off, leaving him hooting at her misery.

* * *

The many champions stood in spawn points, clustered by group, tense and bristling with energy. Even Lux felt an adrenaline rush pouring through her limbs, her magic fast flowing and itching to be released. Beside her stood Garren, a toothy grin across his face, Fiora and Sona. Though the group was not the friendliest with each other, they were still the Demacians. Demacians who, Garren was certain, would win the competition without difficulty.

At the other side of the arena, just as energetic Noxians were scattered in smaller groups—Katarina and her sister, Swain and Talon, and several others. Even Warwick and Morgana reluctantly allied, not wanting to end up as the losers like the other unfortunate eight of the previous match. Yet, there were still individuals who chose to go alone. Riven, for one, couldn't bear to ask to team up with Lux, and couldn't even think straight.

Above the arena of dense forest and craggy rock, a summoner's voice could be heard echoing through the air.

"Match START!"

* * *

_**Thanks for the review! This is kind of a crappy chapter-I didn't really proof read anything so sorry if there's typos...haha ^^" Please leave your thoughts!**_


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3 **

**[Sowwee for typos and grammar errors]**

"Match START!"

Lux, Garren, Fiora and Sona dashed from the spawn point—with already a plan in mind, time was of the essence. Bolting through thick wood and sharp, threatening rocks, they heard battle erupt around them. There were the clangs of metal and streaks of light, and more clearly the yells of pain. However, they had yet to meet an enemy. Their objective after all, wouldn't be going straight for the kill.

Lux rounded the corner, using a branch overhead to sling her light body over a small boulder. She let little beads of lights shine her way through, going before everyone else since she knew the way. She had done her research and observed the first match meticulously, having memorized the way around, and could take a close guess to what other champions may be lurking nearby. Chances were, they would all be champions attracted to her light and smart enough to not rush right into the fray, like everyone else was doing, and what some of her teammates would be doing if not for her.

Champions who were, fortunately, not like Katarina. The 'redheaded devil' was not someone Lux would want to bump into a second time….in a place where violence—and killing!—was promoted.

"How close are we?" Asked Garren from behind her, slightly fatigued from sprinting with his heavy armor. Suddenly she was glad her armor wasn't nearly as large, though it was a pain to wear at all. Her body wasn't build for muscles.

"Close, if my calculations are good," she breathed between steps. "We should be crossing a small river soon. However, it leads to a larger body of water—that's where the problem lies," she explained, remembering that she hadn't expanded on much of her plan to them at all. "Aquatic champions are probably duking it out over there. Most likely the fight worked its way upstream as others try to lure them out, but obviously, why would guys like Nami abandon a nearly infinite supply of energy?"

"I see," he sighed. "I'll be following your lead then."

Lux smiled. Soon the river was in sight, just like how she predicted. Sadly she was also right in the fact that there would be trouble—sure enough, Fizz was trading blows with Swain. Swain she didn't expect—where were his Noxian posse? Usually he had his little underlings like Talon, but now he was alone. Winning still, but alone. Maybe they had already died? It was also possible they split up to defeat multiple nearby enemies. Yes, that was more likely, and that choice would be Swain's downfall.

As she burst from the lush growth, armored feet sloshing into the pebbly water, Fiora sped ahead of her. Among the rush of Fizz's attack's Swain saw nothing coming, until the Demacian's thin blade pierced his back, straight through the spine, severing it. While Fiora was no assassin, her aim proved beyond precise, and frightening too. She was not a duelist Lux wanted to make an enemy of, and yet, with the woman's cold demeanor, making friends was also not a option.

Fizz let out a surprised yelp as Swain's corpse slumped forward before dissolving into crows, the stink of carrion brought with it. Out of panic more than anything else, the champion marked Fiora, diving into the river. Throwing her staff to shield her ally, Lux leapt out of the water as a deep rumble shook the ground. They all knew what was coming next, having faced Fizz thousands of times, but that didn't dampen the worry.

Out of the water emerged the dragon-shark, enveloping Fiora in its maw. As it dove back into the river—which could never have been deep enough to harbor the beast—a battered mirror of the duelist was in its place, arms up to guard her face, but skin scissored by razor sharp teeth. The crystal clear water around her had turned a wispy pink, the scent of copper spreading into Swain's fading stink of death.

Sona immediately began a melodically soothing hymn, handing Fiora a potion. She grudgingly accepted it and swallowed the crimson contents whole, before tossing the empty container to the side and looking at Lux expectantly with not a Fizz in sight.

"Let's get a move on."

Garren eyed her questioningly, impressed but not wholly convinced. "Are you sure you're all right?"

She shot him a poisonous glare which made Teemo's darts pale in comparison. "Very, you big oaf."

"Weeellll, I guess we should hurry on then," Lux stated brightly, lifting the tension. Without waiting to see if anyone was following, she crossed the river and ducked into the other side of the forest, hoping their little encounter hadn't burned up too much time.

When they finally reached their destination, a few more kills had been racked up—Trundle was beaten easily due to the sheer difference in speed and numbers, and the three Yordles Veigar, Lulu and Tristana were bested simply because they were near death to begin with. Lux actually felt a little bad about doing them in since they were pretty much beaten from the start, and could only take about another hit before collapsing.

The quartet stepped into the clearing, clothes stained with blood and dirt. Runes of all sorts were carved into the trees, ground and stones, but the manner of which the foliage wrapped around the walls of the clearing suggested that there was actually nothing inside. But, lo and behold, there stood an ancient golem, triple the size of its usual breed, radiating a dangerous blue. All four of them struck the great beast at once, siphoning its energy as its lifeless body crumbled forth. While there _were_ four of them, it still took some time to kill.

Lux leaned against one of the trees, taking a deep breath and shaking the stress from her bones. From what Ezreal told her, the magic radiating from the clearing shifted every twelve minutes—from basic observation of the hue of the tints and shadows around the masked clearing when other champions passed it last round, it seemed as if what was inside literally changed form in those intervals. If so, then they could keep racking up power at each interval as a new creature is summoned, and ambush anyone who came near.

"The way you say it makes it sound easy," Garren chuckled. Lux stared at him in confusion.

"What? Can you read my mind or something?"

Fiora released an annoyed sigh. "No you _fool_, you thought _aloud_. Everyone heard you."

She blushed. "W-well, so now you know the reasons behind my plan."

After twelve minutes, the process repeated—rather than the golem, one of the lizards was spawned, only stronger again. However, no other champions came nearby. After yet another ten minutes, there was still no luck in opponents. Fiora snarled angrily, slicing a tree in half, before turning on Lux.

"This was a ridiculous idea! Realize, incompetent girl, that we can only gain points by killing _other people_. Killing runic sacks of scum gains nothing!"

"Maybe if we wait a little longer someone will show up," she offered. It was true, though—since the Yordles, their points have remained the same.

"Shut up! Enough with listening to you—I will do things my way."

"Laurent!" Garren argued, "my sister's plan is the only plan there is to offer. If you have one, speak up."

Her mouth tightened, eyes hard. "Actually, I do; kill. Kill the enemies, paint my blade with their blood."

He shook his head. "You don't get the idea, here."

"Shut the hell up! I'm sick of you Crownguards. How can you call yourself the Might of Demacia if all you do is talk? I'm leaving. I'm going to win. Valoran will know the name Laurent and it will shine above you peasants."

With that, she turned on her heel and stormed off, no longer dodging through the trees, merely slicing through them. Sona, who had been passive the whole time, shifted key.

_Fiora Laurent,_ she said telepathically, voice betraying no emotion. _Realize that alone you are just one of thirty champions. You are facing an army of people your strength. If you choose to keep a cold shoulder...Well, just remember it would be unwise to let past events cloud your vision._

The duelist tensed for a split second, so slightly that neither Crownguards noticed, before disappearing into the brush.

After she split, they decided that after one more interval, if they didn't find an opportunity for points, that they would set out and find Fiora. However, things weren't going very well—while they weren't among the last eight, they were far from being in a good position, and bordering dangerous waters.

Resting atop a rock carved with silver, Lux gave the Maven a curious glance. "Sooo, Sona…what was that you said to Fiora before?"

Sona raised an elegant eyebrow, inquiring upon the girl's knowledge. Lux laughed lightly, tilting her head to the side. "You changed key. You used the rhythmic wave column to telepathically channel your energy, putting a bit of your mind into her's—your voice. Am I right?"

Sona smiled. This Lady of Luminosity was sharper than she looked. On a first glance, she looked like just a…a dumb blonde. There wasn't really another way to say it. Well, half the time she acted like that stereotype anyway. Maybe it was the lack of common sense on certain subjects, or maybe it was the fact that she was so…blunt? No. Innocent, more like. After all, she was still young, too young and too pure to be involved in the league—well, that was just her opinion. One of the only ones younger was Annie, but that girl was misguided inside beyond repair. It was people like her who saddened Sona, and people like Lux who surprised her to no end.

"Sona! _Sona_! Watch _OUT_!"

Snapping out of her thoughts, she looked up to see Lux throwing her staff, and Garren rushing over, eyes set in ferocious panic.

* * *

Swain's plan was working perfectly.

Already within the best five champions in the second match, Katarina, Cassiopeia, and Talon scouted out the area, bathed in blood from the tip of Cassie's scaly tail to the scar of Katarina's piercing eye. They had already killed countless champions who were fooled by Swain's absence, and gave teamwork a whole new name. With two being sisters and two being assassins, it was like they could read eachother's minds and hardly have to think about the consequences of their actions.

Well yeah, sometimes their recklessly bold approaches sometimes…rather, usually end in almost self-induced injury, but not without the deaths of a couple foolish champion wannabes.

"I've got to hand it to you two, I didn't think you'd be able to keep up with my skill," Katarina grinned, half praising but mostly taunting. "I wasn't sure if Swain had his crows set straight when he told you to come with us, Talon."

The assassin met her shark like glance with his own steady an unmovable gaze. "It's you who surprises—I'm just waiting for you to kill me for the sake of mere points and to satiate your own bloodlust."

"Please, ending your life would be the equivalent of ending half a Yordle. Among you lower strength Noxians, the only one who poses a challenge is my dear sister," she snickered playfully, reaching over to pat her leathery head. She hissed characteristically, unsure of whether that was a compliment or an insult.

Cassiopeia opened her mouth the respond, only snap it right shut. A jet feathered bird swooped from the sky, perching atop a branch overhead. A feather of its wing glowed a mellow gold, Katarina smiling as it glimmered against the rotting gray of the tree.

"Hmph. About time." She reached out to grab the bird, but it instead hopped to the side, pecking The Sinister Blade's hand viciously.

"Ah! Damn fuckin' crow!" She cursed, pulling her hand away. "One of these days I'll wring your spoiled little neck!"

As if comprehending her threat, it backed away, hopping onto Talon's shoulder. He smirked slightly, before gently taking the golden feather between his fingers. The crow flew away, disappearing into the shadows.

"Well? Come on, I'm getting anxious," Cassie urged, her eyes flashing bright green in excitement. They had been searching for those damned Demacians all day, and their deaths were what they all craved. Talon sliced the feather with his blade and it erupted into a purple-black mist, settling upon his glove. A message then burned itself there, dark and smoking slightly with the scent of magic.

Talon read it over. Then he read it again, and blew over his glove, erasing the message. Before Katarina could snap at him about what the message was, he let loose the ghost of a smile.

"He knows where they are and what they're up to. Now's the chance to strike—with this."

From under his sleeve slid out a length of thin vials, black and simmering. Oh yes, this will be nice.

Now with clear instructions for what to do, Talon led the Du Couteaus across the arena, with the speed of a stallion, Katarina aiding her younger sister's movements. No sooner than they received directions than they were practically at where they needed to be, hiding among the trees. The assassins melted into the shadows, and Cassie shifting in with the leaves of the branches.

Nearby they heard arguing. It was yelling but hushed, though still yelling, and generally not a very smart thing to do when concealed. Easily they were able to tell that the voices were from beyond a very inconspicuous wall of bushes and brush, where a very hot-headed Fiora emerged, her temper showing through in the wide and rough hacking motions of her sword.

Talon laughed at them on the inside. One of the most dangerous Demacians was now by herself, leaving the primary group composed of a woman, an immature brat, and a pea-brained lump of metal.

Too _easy_.

Katarina shot her sister a sharp look, then to Fiora, and lightly traced her fingers across Cassie's glimmering scales. Cassie blinked in understanding. Then she and Talon exchanged a serious of vague motions, before disappearing. In the corner of her eye, Cassie could see a pair of shadows slinking to where Fiora came from, killing intent radiating like noxious fumes.

Soon, the Demacians would be in for a little surprise.

* * *

**_DUN DUN DUUUUUNNNNNN._****_You can probably guess what's happening. I tried to make it kind of clear :P. Thanks for all the views and the reviews! Reviews are tasty. Now, as there are...like...115 champions and only maybe 15 or so I'll be expanding upon throughout the story, I can't guarantee that the characters you like will end up being brought up at all sooo...feel free to post the one character you would want to be included, or the one character you really want to just die, and I might take into consideration :D Don't worry I'm not killing Riven...YET. Just kidding I actually don't know the entire plot yet. _**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

Fiora stalked through the trees at a rushed pace, muscles tense from the rage at the the imbeciles she had the misfortune of teaming with. She didn't care who she was up against, how long it would take… she would be recognized as the best of the best, and no one was going to stop her. Lux's superior tactics could kiss her ass—they were getting her nowhere fast, while most other champions with the power to raise a blade sped to the top of the scoreboard where her spot should be.

Cursing violently and splitting a nearby rock in half with her blade, she pushed further. Not a single enemy was in sight, but yet, with the shadows of the forest reached out for her like nocturne's nightmarish claws, an uneasiness gripped her stomach. Suddenly she remembered how vulnerable she was alone, Sona's words ringing in her ears. Fiora was good, but not good enough to take on a whole team single handedly.

As the eerie sense of being watched got more intense, she felt something she hadn't felt in a long time—fear. Just a little bit, buzzing around her nerves, making her fingers twitch, but in such a way which made her adrenaline rise like a hot fire through her veins.

It felt fucking good.

A snap rang through the thin silence of the woods, making her jump and lift her sword. Her eyes darted every which way, examining every dark corner, every shaking leaf and every shift in the dirt. It was then, just as her pulse settled by the hair of a click, a blur bled into the corner of her eye. Out of pure instinct she dashed backwards, but not fast enough. Something had gotten into her eyes and clothes, stinging horribly and filling her nose and mouth with a suffocating acidic fume.

No sooner had she regained a fragment of her vision, then another blur came from below. More of the same poison, all too familiar, splashed up. She blocked with her arms, but the cloth, torn by Fizz's dragon-shark, left skin exposed and burning from the touch.

Fiora somersaulted backwards, senses overwhelmed, but still able to land perfectly and dash around a tree. Finally ridding her eyes of the poison, she dashed out and leapt toward the source of the vile substance. Faster than Ashe's arrow. More precise than Yi's strike. But not stronger than Garren's swing.

She hit her mark, that was for certain—a screeching shriek told her so. But after pulling back and launching herself a safe distance away again, it became certain by the lack of blood on her blade that it wasn't powerful enough to make a fatal strike.

From the shade of a tree, Cassiopeia slithered forward, eyes of emerald burning with fury and pain. Her scales were ripped and bloody from the stab, however, they were tougher than they looked and prevented major damage. Fiora scowled—had her aim been just a little higher, her thrust would have skewered the venomous woman and taken her out for good.

She whipped her sword to the side, the snake's blood splattering against a stone before it seemed to evaporate to dust, crumbling lightly against the grass below the stone. Cassiopeia met the duelist's intimidation with a hiss of her own, lips curling to reveal sharp fang of a predator. Disturbingly enough, Fiora found it oddly attractive how the Noxian's features were so blatantly feral, yet so elegant, so majestic. Her eyes and scales, so luminously dark, like that of a true wild serpents, but delicate and juxtaposing against her smooth skin, tame in warm lights.

Fiora tightening her grip on the rapier. The fuck was she thinking? This was a battle for fame and fortune, and battle they will.

She made the first move, seemingly disappearing in her speed. However, her move was stopped short as a perceived fang of poison shot forth, forcing her to dodge to the side. It was followed up soon after by the same splash of venom as before, only this time she kept composure and stepped into the snake's guard, jutting her sword through her opponent's outstretch palm. Fiora meant to hit the head, but Cassiopeia was more insightful than she looked, and averted the strike. Then, beating the pain and gripping the blade through her hand, she let loose burst of poison from her opposite palm and onto Fiora's stomach. She grit her teeth angrily and dashed away again, chest-piece now mostly eaten by chemicals, revealing a chain vest, so thin it could hardly be seen.

Wearing the garb hurt her pride, having it visible even more so, but she knew that if it hadn't been there she'd be in far more pain.

"Demacia's Duelist—how disappointing, I would've though such a treasure would put up more of a fight, hmm?" Cassiopeia sneered, the cut on her tail slowly healing . A restorative potion lay empty, balanced on the tip of her tail, before she tossed it away unceremoniously to shatter on the ground. Her hand was laced with dark blood, limp and unmoving, again dissolving as it dripped to the ground. The Demacian, in truth, had never noticed before—not once had she stopped to think about those she killed, and no once had she shown any interest in an opponent who wasn't a master swordsman of whom she thought she could learn from.

"Speak for yourself, snake," she spat, the corners of her mouth twitching into an exhilarated smile. "You inflicted no wounds, just the feeble scratches of a weakling."

Cassie hissed, fangs exposed once more into her own grin. Then she coiled like a _real_ snake and practically pounced upon her, sharp, purple nails raking along her cheek. Fiora didn't even blink as the blood was let and a poison rash began to form, but instead returned the glancing hit with two quick slashes to the side, and another stab to the same hand just to inflict pain. Cassiopeia turned and spat searing tendrils of violet liquid over Fiora's shoulder, eating viciously through the cloth. Then, the spot exploded into a more concentrated virus of poison, eating past the cloth and chain both, reaching to her skin and part through it. The pain was amazing but it only fueled her adrenaline, and she once again returned the gift with her own flurry of stabs, feigns and lunges, matched perfectly with footwork which would put Yi to shame.

At last the two disengaged, slick with blood, but as energetic as ever. The wounds weren't deep, as they were surprisingly evenly matches, but it was starting to take too long. Worryingly long. Cassiopeia knew that she didn't have a lot of time left—in fact, Katarina and Talon should already be done with their part of the job. If they returned to find that she hadn't completed _her's_ yet, then surely they'd be disappointed. Well, that, and she would definitely never hear the end of it from Katarina.

"Sorry, Demacian, but It's over now. I've got no more time to waste on playing your game."

Cassie cooled the blood in her veins. She already felt energy collecting in her eyes like tears, only as particles threatening to burst like fireworks. Fiora, noticing the change, narrowed her eyes and shifted her hold to a parrying position, unaware for what was to come. However, at the last moment, Fiora's own eyes widened, a cosmic mix of sky blue bordered to sea green, revealing a hint of surprise.

And then to Fiora's right. A flicker of green, gold and red, before a spear threatened to sever her head. It was every bit of reflex taken to dodge the blow, then back away as usual. Cassie, so confused as to what was happening, cancelled her spell. Then the world spun as lights flashed and pure electric energy collided with her temple, almost knocking her out of play.

When her vision came back, previously stolen by the bright light, she had skid to a wild crouch next to Fiora, and around them, like the mock crew of a movie gang, stood Jayce, Pantheon, Viktor and Nasus, ever the odd team, but ever the point-racking instigators of today.

Fiora looked form one to the other, instantly demoralized. Surrounded by enemies—the worst scenario she could have thought up. _Because I alone am just one of thirty champions. I alone am one of many who wants to be the best._ Her face hardened. _But I alone will be the one to take home glory._

Hesitating slightly, Fiora took the Noxian Serpent's hand, its stab wounds healing under the restorative hidden under her palm, where the Duelist would apply her items' blessings. Not breaking glance from the enemies in front of them, sword ready, watching as the four prepared to strike, she smirked.

"Team up with me. After this, then we'll see who is playing who's game."

Cassie looked at the Grand Duelist, doubtful. But the healing warmth of the duelist's hand on her cold blooded one seemed…so much like her sister's. Trustworthy, at least to an extent, and resolved.

She bared her fangs. "Very well. Just don't fall behind, Demacian!"

* * *

It was too late when she saw the shadow.

Too late when she saw a flash of light within in, a ring of steel rubbing against steel.

Far, far, too late when a glimmer of cruel green eyes glowed, and then the Sinister Blade was upon her teammate, the Maven, who looked behind her at the last possible moment. Lux and her brother ran with arms on and ready, but they were too slow—within a fraction of a second, Katarina's dagger slid expertly across Sona's soft throat, face contorted in pain and mouth open in a silent scream. As she fell, her fingers ran over her Etwahl, howling wicked strum of scratchy dissonances. Each note was like a stab to their ears, and all three of them clutched their heads in vain. Katarina, hands soaked in Sona's blood, glared at them spitefully before uncovering her ears, though it was evident that they were bleeding and it was not just the blood of her victim.

Lux too felt something trickle down her temple and over her cheek. It dripped onto her neck and she touched it, her fingers coming back scarlet.

Her baton returned to her hands—she didn't remember throwing it, though it was probably instinctively to protect Sona. All in failure of course—the musician's corpse had already dissolved into a bright blue light, and she could feel her soul hovering above in the musk of the temporarily deceased.

Garen charged forward, yelling angrily, sword above his head in a power stance. He brought it down to slice the Noxian, but she wove to the side before disappearing in a cloud of red. Instantly the two siblings positioned themselves back to back, in complete commando-combat mode. Knowing Katarina, she probably hadn't just run away. Or that was what Garen thought. He had stood toe to toe against the assassin in multiple instances, and never had she made an appearance and then fled, no matter what her assassin code of conduct decreed.

Assassin only by heart, she was—the fire of a warrior controlled her mind.

And Warriors never fled.

As if to punctuate the thought, her signature dagger shot from the shadows—he parried it with his blade. However, he didn't expect her to come from below and offer a sharp jab, one with more power than accuracy, biting his forearm. He knew she was aiming for something better.

Lux, her back previously to Garen's, flipped around him and shot a twining concentration of magic from her baton. Realizing its intent all too late, the magic smashed square into her chest, enveloping her in a cage of arcane bars. The duo wasted no time in barraging a combo of strikes and shots, but they had underestimated her.

Katarina smirked from her position of blocking and taking attacks. Behind Garen she made split second eye contact with a deathly ominous figure, and took one last hit, grabbing Garen's sword with both arms. Though pain shot up her as the edges sliced through, it was dulled by the bloodlust rushing from her wounds, spurring and pumping and bursting.

The sword limpened in her grasp.

The Might of Demacia spluttered, blood spraying from his lips. He looked down mutely. Lodged in his middle, Talon's three razors were stuck, fountaining with the black-red stream that Katarina loved so much. The penetration of the blades was amazing as always, but he hadn't recognized the strength of the armor, which hugged the blades and preventing movement. However, it wasn't as if it mattered much—with his body practically bisected, there was nothing he could do.

Garen fell to his knees. Then, with a sudden strength she thought impossible to posses in such a situation, he tore his sword from her arms. In a whoosh of heavy metal slicing through the air, it was embedded in Talon's shoulder before either could blink, Garen collapsing with the summoners' blue magic flaking around him.

Lux, stock still moments before, unleashed a hurricane of anomalies, one combusting after the other. Katarina attempted to Shunpo away, but found with a knot of dread in her gut that Talon would have no such luck. Though the Demacian girl was clearly terrified and not in sharp wit, her attacks were hitting him with such power that he remained utterly disabled. Struggling between the task of removing Garen's blade, dislodging his own blades and defending himself from the vengeful sister's attacks, he was having no luck and got weaker by the second. Katarina considered helping him until yet another binding shot caged Talon to the spot, and then hit her right after. With both of them pinned down, things were not looking up.

Lux looked from one to the other wildly, straining to calm down. _Okay. Okay. Sona's dead. But coming back. In…in….a whole minute. Same with Garen._

_But…but but but! They are bound and I am totally in control. I'm in control… right? Yes. Control. That's it. All I have to do is…_

She tossed her baton to the side, collecting a spike of all the magic she had left. Frantic, Talon struck the cage relentlessly to escape, but for naught. A bright light engulfed both assassins, burning the grass and sweeping away trees, leaving behind the charred and dissipated remains of Talon. Katarina had better luck and wasn't hit straight on, but her whole right arm had ceased to exist.

_That bitch. She's so…fucking dead!_

Lux froze, rooted in fear at the look in her opponents eyes. they were of a demon's—no, a devil's—and screamed bloody murder.

And then, the very thing of nightmares was upon her, knife ready to decapitate.

And, with a soft 'eep', everything went black.

* * *

_**BEHOLD MEH LAME ATTEMPTS AT ACTION AND DEATH AND ALL THAT COMES WITH IT! Yes, feel free to criticize. I wish to improve my utter lack of skill regarding action scenes and writing in general. BYE!**_


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

Riven took a swig of her restoration potion, grimacing bitterly as the sour fluid ran over her tongue. But it was worth it, for little by little she felt the fatigue pull from her heavy limbs and stiff muscles. However, it did little to remove the blood which stained her cloth-and-metal rag-tag armor, which still and encumbered her body.

Whose blood it was, she didn't even remember anymore. After all, she'd died many times, and taken down twofold the champions with her. They seemed to forget that deaths weren't taken into account; all that mattered was how many you chopped down, and while it _was_ indeed difficult to fight on her own, there was still no way she could keep her emotions in check with Lux around.

It was a good thing they haven't come across each other yet.

She sighed in content as all the aches and pains left her, before hurling her vial into the lake, letting it interrupt the pinkish water, little ripples erupting around it. Underneath, Fizz and Nami's aquatic bodies glowed lightly, a gentle aura that didn't seem to match the grotesque cuts on their bodies. However, as much as watching their slowly dissolving corpses bleed out was fun, she knew that within moments there would be people coming. There always was. So, as always, she set off deeper into the arena and towards the action.

And when it came to action, there was something everywhere. Already the clangs and bangs of bullets and swords cluttered the ambience. Shouts of war, yells of allies to each other and yells of enemies to their enemies. It suddenly made perfect sense as to why everyone would get annoyed at the Demacian's loud honor cries.

A series of quick rustles headed toward her. Riven scaled the nearest tree in response, hoping her armor wouldn't contrast with the natural greens and browns. Making herself a shield of camouflage with the leaves, she peered towards the noise, sword ready. Hopefully, there would only be one person. Dispatching one is as easy as taking on a siege minion, that's what she thought, and so far she'd been right.

However, Lady Luck had dulled her shine this time. Bolting from the foliage emerged Ashe and Kayle, dexterously whirling about. Then they halted just below her, tense and cautious, towards the direction of which they emerged.

_They're running from something._

"Get back here!"

_Or some_one_, obviously. Someone very rude, abrasive, and loud._

Someone named Tryndamere, who just burst from the brush, great sword dragged behind him tactlessly. Treating his blade with such a crude demeanor…she ought to send his head flying for just that.

"Pursuing us this far? I believe you are asking to be killed, Barbarian King," Kale said smoothly. Her helmet was gone, revealing a shaggy yet sleek mane of gold. Blue eyes of which held an iciness rivaling Ashe's glared daggers, holding back nothing. Even Riven had to admit she had a notable air of both strength and undeniable sexiness about her.

Apparently the barbarian did not agree.

"Shut up, you ugly whore! Get away from my wife!"

This time is was Ashe who replied, her voice cooler than Freljord's most desolate mountains. "Leave or I will land an arrow between your eyes, honor-less knave. Our future marriage gives you no power over my actions nor of those around me."

Riven thought he would be hurt by her words. Why was she acting so hostile anyway? It was a shocker in itself that they were being married, though it did make sense now that she thought about it. Instead of hurt, however, he was angry, jaw clenched, face taking hold of a dark shade of red.

"You should be with me! By MY side! We will rule Freljord together—we should fight together! _You belong with me_!"

Ashe narrowed her eyes, fingers grasping the feathers of an arrow. Kayle visibly hadn't changed, but Riven could tell that the connection between she and her blade had altered to one of immense energy.

"It was you who cast aside our alliance in this competition, _King_ Tryndamere, by denying my decision of allying with the Judicator."

A flash of rage emit from his body, fury wrapping his abused steel blade. He pointed it rudely at Kayle, who tightened her scowl condescendingly.

"She is no ally of great loyalty—she who is called the 'Judicator' is merely a weak woman! Nothing more!"

"Then clearly that is where our opinions differ."

Quicker than Riven could have ever done, Ashe strung her bow and let the arrow fly—rather, it didn't fly at all, it _tore_ through the air in a swirl of ice and heatless wind. The arrow slammed into the hilt of his sword around his hand and wrapped it in a case of ice, frozen solid. The accuracy was amazing, so amazing that she was sure Ashe could shoot a bullet if she wanted to. Tryndamere's eyes widened in shock as he stared at his disabled hand, then hatefully at his wife. Before he could speak, Riven decided to make her entrance, leaping out of the tree and over the surprised duo. She landed in front of the king and sneered, putting all the arrogance she could into one facial expression.

"_Who_ is hopeless?" She jeered. Tryndamere, still startled as to where she came from, blinked in confusion. And, in one fell swoop, she sliced him from shoulder to shoulder, blood splattering onto her face and neck. He stumbled backwards before landing solidly to the ground, eyes white and the ground quickly reddening around him. The stench of copper soon filled the air, only instead of it being a dreadful smell, it sweetened her senses. Served him right it did!

Remembering the two women behind her, she turned on her heel, crouched low and sword up in a defensive barrier. Ashe and Kayle eyed her, Ashe with mild amusement.

"Were you above us the whole time?" She asked lightly, stringing another arrow, but not firing.

Riven fidgeted nervously. "Well…yeah." She then flicked her eyes over Kayle, whose sword was now engulfed in flames. Things were not looking up at all.

Ashe nodded slowly, smiling. "I see. I do thank you for killing Tryndamere...having to fight him would not have been good for future relations under such circumstances. Marriage might not be possible." Who knew what kind of film could be leaked-in a competition where allies could be picked, the future king and queen of Frejlord not siding together could end up looking...unpleasant to her people.

Kayle, on the other hand, shifted slightly, though her face remained of stone.

Kayle. Riven had always wanted to meter her strength, had always wanted to spar against the immortal, but not here with Ashe. Ashe…would take her down in moments. Her power was not something to be trifled with. Against such ranged prowess, her sword was useless. Even though she could cover good distance with her winged assault, it wouldn't be enough if the two rangers simply made more distance.

After moments of pure silence, the frost archer's brow knit. "Aren't you going to attack? I'll give you the honor of initiative."

Riven hesitated. She could probably take her down with her combos if she truly was giving her the initiative…but…there was always Kayle and her invulnerability blessing. And that sword, those flames. It would not end good.

"…Or do you not want to fight? You don't think you would lose easily would you?" She guessed.

Bingo. She couldn't admit that though, and just looked away, embarrassed.

Ashe lowered her bow. Kayle followed suit, the flames extinguishing like a candle snuffed by wind. Riven looked forward to see that the queen was now directly in front of her, hand extended gently. Questionably she stared at the hand, pale as snow and just as delicate, as if it was some alien object.

"A truce," she mused kindly. "This is just the preliminaries, friend—there is much more to come. In future issues, I trust you can fight alongside Kayle and I. The same offer extends to those you decide to partner with." There was a knowing tone to her voice, but she ignored it, taking her hand firmly. She was cold to the touch, sending chills up her spine, yet it still found some way to seem warm in nature, matching the personality.

"So…I hear you have taken an interest in General Luxanna Crownguard. Do I hear the truth?" A playful atmosphere rose around her, and the corner of her mouth made the most slight of grins.

Riven blushed madly. "Of sorts."

"Ah. Then I wish you the best of luck. Now, I believe—"

She was stopped mid sentence as a horrible screech scratched through the forest, loud and full of dissonance. It reminded The Exile of nails running down one of those vile boards of which a scholar would scribe upon, but magnified tenfold. Her hands, which went instantly to her ears, became wet, and her head spun. When it was over, Ashe and Kayle were looking towards the source of the ugly noise, their ears bloody.

"What was that…?" Riven breathed, a hint dizzy, but more or less alright. Ashe had one hand to her forehead, eyes scrunched closed. Kayle, on the other hand, had concern etched over her features.

"Only one champion of my knowledge could produce a sound of such magnitude—rather, only one champion controls sound to begin with."

There would only be one reason why Sona would let loose such discord. She would never do it on purpose because it harmed not only enemies but herself and allies as well, so it was obviously accidentally, only Sona rarely made accidents when it came to things like that. Most probably, something happened to her. And if something happened to her...Something would have happened to her teammates as well, lest it were her teammates causing it.

But that would never happen.

Riven sprinted towards the sound, hoping she wouldn't arrive too late. If the Demacians fell any lower than they were already, they'd be in big trouble.

Ashe and Kayle watched as she left, wishing for Riven's wellbeing that Crownguard would be all right. It was blatantly obvious to them, and most other keen champions, how Riven felt about her. Yet…that girl seemed utterly oblivious whenever the topic was hinted.

Looking cleverly from one to the other, Ashe sent up her hawk, clearing the area of bugs. And, with a shy smile, the Immortal and the Queen met in a single sweet kiss, ice colliding with fire in a crystal embrace.

* * *

When Riven heard the discord, it was loud. Very loud.

So naturally she thought that Sona would be close by.

She thought wrong.

Since leaving her new allies, she'd seen nothing that sparked interest. No blood. No destruction. Not a blade of grass nor leaf or pebble strewn the wrong way. Yet still she ran, almost stumbling over obstacles, heavy and just exhausted from being active for so long. Had it been a rift match, it would be long over.

Just as her hopes were dashing, a familiar Demacian war cry sounded nearby. It was Garen, most likely spinning like an oaf or something, no matter how affective it may be. She picked up the pace, but still his voice was far. Then she glimpsed, above the trees, a glimmering pillar of blue as the soul of a defeated champion was transported to the area of the dead. It had to be Sona—only she could have perished, right?

Yes.

Lux would be fine.

And if she wasn't…she'd just kill the one who did her in. Simple as that.

_Mmmh, simple it is indeed, Miss Riven._

She caught herself from snagging her foot on a root, a flare of anger quickly spiking in her chest.

_Oh come now, don't be so surprised. I am a summoner. _

Battling the fatigue of her limbs, she continued at a slower pace, struggling to push up metal barriers. She left her mind exposed, to conserve strength, and all this time he was digging through her thoughts like they were his own.

_Fuck off old coot, and get out of my head! _She demanded.

_I believe you have forgotten our little agreement, champion, and I require your senses at this point and time. _

_Desire my senses? I'm your assistant, not your helper. Get. OUT._

First there was silence.

Then she felt her body go numb, and she collapsed forward, the momentum sending her crashing against the misshapen rug of stone and dirt. She tried to get up.

Nothing.

Her body was rooted to the ground, and her nerves completely unresponsive.

_What did you fucking do?! _Riven screamed in her mind, pushing in vain to move her arms. _Undo what you just did. Undo it!_

_The deal, Miss Riven. I require your senses. You shall give me them, or I shall take them myself. _

Wasting time. She could hear the fighting now, hear the yells, but they were muffled. Who knows what could be going on. Gritting her teeth in rage, she let a word of begrudging agreement escape her lips.

"Fine."

And darkness enveloped her. First she felt sheer terror—it was always horrible when a summoner decided to take control of her body, but never to the extent that she couldn't see, couldn't hear or breathe. It felt as if someone had sucked away all the warmth and soul of her body, bottled it up, and buried it far, far away. And then moments later, everything came rushing back in a torrent of pure energy, flooding her senses. Quite the opposite sensation, and almost as frightening.

She was left shakily on her feet, knees vibrating uncontrollably. In her mind, she could practically see that bastard sneering down at her cheekily as her pride lay in shambles.

_There you go. Now that wasn't so hard was it? I just took a view of the place…in detail. Utilized some of my summoner perks with a more desirable amplitude. Oh! I even gave you a little gift, Miss Riven. Although you claim such things are dishonorable, little exile, I'm sure you will now think otherwise._

She felt his presence fade. The burning of his eyes against her being, which she had blatantly shrugged off since the beginning of the match, disappeared at last. How stupid it was of her to think of that instinctive discomfort as simple anxiety…who knows what he saw in her head. What he read of her.

_Who_ he read of her.

She shuddered. And still, the haunt of his presence remained with that new weight in her pocket, presumably his ominous 'gift', which she dared not uncover.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a blinding flash of brilliant light. It was all too familiar to nearly everyone in the League from top to bottom, and was one of Demacia's trademarks.

Lux's beam.

So close, just beyond the trees. So close.

With energy the bastard summoner must have revitialized her with, Riven dashed, sword gripped tight. A spray of sand seemed to erupt behind her from the force of her boots, leaving dents in the earth behind her.

She rounded one tree. Then another little cluster of shrubs. Then she came upon a tree taller than the rest, and scaled it with one arm, using it as a viewpoint.

And quite the view there was.

Just beyond where she crouched in the tree, a rune strewn clearing exposed itself, stained with blood and corpses. There lay Garen and Talon, dark puddles beneath them both. And then, there stood Galio, his great wings around him in a protective shield. In his large, stone arms lay an unconscious Lux, small and feeble compared to the sentinel's form. Winding from her cheek to the opposite collarbone shone a deep cut, slick but not running.

From a blade. The Sinister Blade's weapon, no less.

And there stood the Sinister Blade herself, pale with blood loss yet flushed slightly and bristling.

They looked like they were talking. It was a strange sight to see, Katarina conversing with a Gargoyle. It was stranger still that she seemed to be slowly relaxing.

Riven burst from the tree, a good distance from the clearing, but not long enough for her to be bested by distance. With a tumble and a dashing lunge, she aimed for just one more strike. One that would end the Noxian.

But her sword only bit the dust, quite literally, as her target blinked out in a burst of smoke.

She moved to give chase. She could catch her still. Gain some points. Put the red bitch in her place. Get some payback.

Yeah right.

Before she could start to run, the ground combusted in front of her, splattering coppery dirt into her face. She whipped around to face Galio, two feet from her. His ever observant eyes probed her carefully as if she might suddenly disappear just like Katarina, before simply laying down Lux.

Then he too was gone, flying above the trees in powerful gusts of wind.

Riven watched him fade over the leaves before she knelt over her crush, all sorts of anger and relief pouring out of her—anger at Katarina. Anger at the match. And, mostly, anger at that damn summoner. It had been a long, long time since she felt genuine fear, and he made her feel that. It was worse than any death she'd experienced and pain she'd endured.

She felt the weight in her pocket pulse against her, like a living thing, and remembered what he said. She wondered what it was. Then she wondered if she would prove him wrong.

Picking up Lux, as if she were made of glass and nothing more, Riven walked from the clearing.

She was light as a feather, she realized. And still so helpless in her arms, which have never been able to protect.

* * *

**_Thanks so much for the reviews! I actually have finals this week...so for the PAST week I've been studying and didn't have time to go on...but thanks for the support! I was a bit choppy and a bit off with this chapter, buuuut I wanted to put more focus on Riven. I'll be doing a lot of that-there's are several characters [Ashe, Kayle, Vi, Cassie, ect.] who I plan on developing as the story goes on...though you can see that the first two are already in a nice relationship ;). _**


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